


Present Darkness

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt given by the awesome Randi - Josiah, any, we are shaped by the light we let through us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the wonderful Huntersglenn for the beta – all mistakes my very own! Written as part of the June Not!Nano for Mag7Wrimo on DW.

_"In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present."_  
Francis Bacon

 

He closed the book, rubbing his eyes. When he took his hands away, his vision was blurry, but he wasn't sure if it was from the rubbing and pressure or if it was from the strain of trying to read by candlelight. He'd been using more and more candles, trying to keep the room as bright as possible, at least in the area where he read. Nathan worried that he was going to set the church on fire on night, or burn himself with falling candle wax.

 

He was more afraid of the cataracts. He knew they were growing, affecting his vision even when he wasn't reading. Last week, he'd had a hard time recognizing the Judge as he'd gotten out of the stage. He'd blamed it on the sun being behind the stage, but he knew it was an excuse. His eyes were getting weak.

 

The next morning, he made the trip to Vista City. It was earlier than usual, but he'd had dreams the night before, dreams of waking up unable to see, unable to make the trip. Dreams of never seeing Hannah again. For all that she was different, now, aged and wraith-like, she was still beautiful to him.

 

Perhaps that was why he found himself speaking it for the first time, this fear of losing his sight.

 

"Look for the light," Hannah said, even as she worked feverishly on her latest chalk drawing. "The light will show you."

 

She said nothing else, but later, as he said his goodbyes, she reached up and touched his forehead and then she met his gaze. She looked into his eyes, something she hadn't done in the past decade. "Light," she said, her fingertips tracing over his eyebrows and leaving colored smudges.

 

That night, he dreamed of her and her words, wondering what they meant. His dreams offered many explanations, but none of them made much sense. As was always the case when he dreamed of her, he also dreamed of his father.

 

He awoke before dawn, tired and angry, and too restless to go back to sleep. Too afraid.

 

"You all right? Ain't used to seeing you up so early." The voice was gravelly, more so than usual. It was probably the first time Vin had spoken today.

 

Josiah turned to find the younger man walking toward the church stairs, toward him. The sun was rising behind him, casting him in a reddish light. As he walked past the stairs and turned back, facing into the sun, it seemed that he still carried the reddish tint, warm and soft, that turned to copper.

 

"J'siah?" he asked, frowning.

 

"Couldn't sleep," Josiah said. "What are you doing up so early?"

 

Vin grinned, turning his gaze toward the sun. "Quietest time of the day," he said simply. "You can hear the earth."

 

The light caught the blue of his eyes, reflecting the sky. He was still burnished in soft copper as he continued on.

 

The sun was higher when Josiah made his way off the steps and over to the restaurant. He was the first customer of the day, arriving in time to get coffee just ready and to smell the biscuits baking, melting butter rich in the air. He sat, sipping on his coffee and thinking about his dreams, when the door opened and he saw a warm, orange light that said, "Mornin', my friend. Biscuits ready?" Then Nathan slid into a chair across from, his smile bright enough to blind, even with his halo of orange.

 

A few minutes later, as Josiah was scooping up grits and eggs with a steaming biscuit, the door opened and JD bounced through the door, his stride fast, like the pitter patter of rain. "Morning!" he said pulling back a chair. "What a beautiful day!" As he sat down, Josiah was momentarily caught in the heat of his youth and enthusiasm, the world around JD seeming to shimmer in shades of pure silver. He was blinded for a second, not long enough to scare him but long enough for him to notice, and when his sight returned, it seemed that everything around JD was crystal clear, sharp and focused.

 

The day was pleasant, the heat of the past few weeks broken by a gentle wind that blew in off the desert with a hint of rain. Josiah suspected that the afternoon would see a thunderstorm so he spent the rest of the morning nailing up shingles over several small holes in the roof. By lunch, he was sweaty, tired, and a little blinded by the glare of the sun, so sitting in the saloon with a beer was a special comfort – cool, dark, and quiet this time of the day.

 

He sat for a time with his eyes closed, letting the headache that had been building behind his eyes slowly ebb away. Inez was solicitous, serving him a dish of beans and chiles with corn tortillas and tomato salsa, and he ate slowly and deliberately, taking his time.

 

He wasn't aware of someone coming through the doors, but he was aware of the movement of someone close to him, and then of a chair scrapping across the floor nearby. He opened his eyes to find Buck sitting across the table from him, resting his head on his hands. He looked tired and rumpled, his jacket resting across the chair beside him, his shirt collar uneven and his hair tousled, several stands curled over his forehead.

 

"Buck?" Josiah said, worried about the other man. "You all right?"

 

Buck shifted in his chair and drew a long breath. "I ain't as young as I used to be," he said by way of an answer. He sat back in the chair, dropping his hands away. "I used to be able to manage a – well, shall we say, a dance card with more than one dancer, but not any more, I reckon. Three of 'em damned near killed me." He sighed, and Josiah almost laughed, until the soft shadows seem to turn purple, reflecting the color of Buck's bandana. His skin seemed to cast a soft purple glow, too, but Josiah thought it might be more of a blue from overindulgence.

 

"Perhaps you should take some time off from your – pursuits?" Josiah suggested, though he was trying not to smile.

 

Buck's eyes opened, closed, then opened again to stare at Josiah. "And deprive the poor women of this desert some sort of compensation for all the trouble and tribulation?" His voice grew stronger with each word he spoke, and the visible sense of purple did as well. Josiah glanced around, wondering it a cloud were passing over the sun outside, casting the shadows deeper. But outside, it seemed as clear and bright as it had been before. "I am surprised at you, Josiah," Buck said, but there was amusement in his voice, and it seemed more like the Buck he knew – vivacious and determined. "I have a duty to those women out there, the ones I can help."

 

Josiah nodded, taking a sip of his beer to hide his grin.

 

A few minutes later, as Buck was leaning on the bar, casting his purple glow over Inez, the doors swung open and the golden sun rolled in, blinding him all over. He closed his eyes, wishing he had braved the dangers of going back to the church and napping before the storm set in.

 

"Josiah," Chris said, his voice matter-of-fact. He pulled out a chair – not the same one Buck had pulled out, but the one beside it – and sat down. "Town seems quiet."

 

"Yep," he agreed, cracking his eyelids open just enough to see Chris sitting across from him. The bright gold was dimmer now, more an aura around Chris as he stared back at Josiah.

 

"You all right?" Chris said, his eyes sharp as knives as his stare bore into Josiah.

 

Josiah thought about it for a minute, thinking about the dreams, about the headaches and the blurry vision. Thinking about Hannah.

 

As he opened his mouth to answer, there was a creak on the stairs and he looked up to see Ezra, dressed in his red jacket and black hat. As he caught Ezra's eye, he seemed bathed in green, a deep, forest green that made Josiah smile.

 

'The light will show you', Hannah had said. And now, seeing it, he understood. There was more to 'seeing' than the details that his eyes recognized. That was what Hannah was telling him, not just with her words, but with her art.

 

"Josiah?" Chris asked, his voice impatient.

 

Josiah looked back at him, into the soft golden light. "Never better," he answered, watching as Ezra moved over to the table and the soft gold and green overlapped in a sea of comfort.

 

 

 


End file.
